On Top of the World
by cameronsn
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki is a young, rich and famous soccer player who can't help but feel like something's missing despite having it all. AU. IchiRuki
1. Being Somebody

**Summary: **Ichigo Kurosaki is a young, rich and famous soccer player who can't help but feel like something's missing despite having it all.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **I do, however, own the plot for this story.

**Warning(s): **Maybe a bit OCCness. I try to stick to their personalities as much as I can. Hopefully it's not poorly underdone.

**Author's note: **Hi! Long time, no see. Life has been hectic, as you may have noticed through my serious lack of presence. I will try to update frequently, this story has been written out and it's just a matter of tweaking the chapters a little here and there before I post them. I don't know how long the story will be but I'm not thinking of making it an extended deal. I hope it entertains you and that it is worth your time!

Also, I opened up a Photobucket account so you could see the houses and the rooms described in this story. I know absolutely nothing about houses in general and english isn't my first language so I needed a little help for the descriptions. I feel like I might have gotten a little carried away with the technical stuff so just in case you can't exactly visualize what I'm talking about, you can go to my Photobucket account instead and see. Go to my profile (FFNet didn't let me paste the address here) and instructions are there. More pictures will be uploaded as the story goes down.

Alright. On with the story!

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**On Top of the World **

"_Being somebody doesn't make you anybody, anyway."_

_- GMC._

"...here is what's happening on ESPN J Sports today: All-Star soccer sensation Ichigo Kurosaki has renewed his contract with the Goteijūsantai F.C. Japan's Professional Football League top scorer has signed for six years and will be earning a net salary of 30 million dollars. Kurosaki led the league last year with 28 goals and 8 assists in 27 appearances. He is the only player to score three goals in at least 9 of the J-League's 16 regular season matches. He also holds the record for most goals scored in the championship cup with 5. The league's Player of the Year and one of owner Yamamoto Genryuusai's finer acquisitions—"

Ichigo Kurosaki reached for the remote on the coffee table before him and turned off the 119 inch plasma TV mounted on the wall of his gigantic living room. He leaned back on the couch to rest his head on the upper part of it, letting out a long abated breath as he stared at the ceiling, grateful for the quiet in both his house and his mind.

Ever since he had gone pro, his life had been nothing but an ongoing spectacle. Being the face behind the top ten major soccer brands in the world, people knew who he was everywhere he went, in fact, there were very few souls in Japan that didn't know his face what with it being plastered and magnified in just about every far-reaching billboard around Tokyo. He was in the cover of local newspapers and Japanese entertainment magazines all year round, TV stations aired his ads around the clock. Having become Japan's most marketable athlete, his commercial potential was exploited in any and every way his sponsors believed his commercial potential could be exploited.

There was memorabilia to his name that sold well into the billions, everything from the club's black jersey shirt with white lettering and embroidery that had his last name and his number on the back to autographed posters of his face; they all sold out. Hardcore fans enjoyed making a spectacle of themselves, wearing the shirts to the games, some even dyed their hair orange and would keep it that color from the beginning of season to the end. They celebrated big whenever he scored, he could hear the entire stadium chanting his name in unison. He liked to become part of the show, celebrating along with them until they went wild with praise and his whole body erupted in goosebumps. It was_ intense_.

Then came life outside the stadium.

With fame he knew that being publicly acknowledged just came with the territory. From the moment he stepped out of his house, herds of fangirls and paparazzi alike followed him as one, they tripped over themselves just to snap a picture of him while he tried to carry on with his very mundane, everyday tasks. He could be grocery shopping or pumping gas and they were drawn to him like moths to a lamplight. He had invested in a contemporary 11,000 square feet house located in a luxury gated community far from downtown Tokyo just to stay away from it all. With clean lines and double-bolted ceilings, it stood perched on a hill and had an open concept layout with floor-to-ceiling glass all around. The house featured four king-sized bedrooms and five bathrooms, five living areas including an outdoor one, a chef style kitchen, a cinema, a gym with a steam room right next to it, a wet bar on the pool deck and a four-car parking space.

Lately, it had become more like his fortress.

While sometimes he couldn't help but feel like a wild animal locked in a cage because of the amount of time he found himself forced to spend in it on his own, most times he couldn't say he minded. His chosen "career" kept his entire life under constant scrutiny, up to the point where even his family and his friends got caught in the media and rabid groupie crossfire frenzy and it left him wanting to do nothing more than isolate himself from everyone and everything, if only for a little self-preservation. It still puzzled him, the way he seemed to have earned this stature just for simply being good at what he loved to do with a passion. He wondered what would happen when he no longer was. People had an image of him that they loved to worship and yet he knew without needing any sort of introspection that he didn't even come close to being who they thought he was.

Ichigo spent his better days in solitude so those he cared about didn't have to put up with the attention circus that he had to go through. He avoided relationships more often now because he was privy to the sort of intrusion where who he dated became the main topic of discussion for major entertainment channels and gossip magazines and he hated it. Not everybody understood how his world worked and while he had no control whatsoever over what paparazzi and the press decided to go public with, there was so much the person that chose to be with him could stand before she reached her boiling point. He had known, from the moment he had chosen soccer as a career, that being with someone would be difficult because of what they would be subjected to. Every time he entered a relationship, he came out feeling responsible for his chosen partner's misery and he was sick of it.

His phone went off on the end table next to the couch, interrupting his train of thought. He grabbed the device and unlocked it, the screen rapidly showing the text message he had received:

**Rukia:**

_On my way over. Leave the door open._

Ichigo sighed. He had been best friends with Rukia since childhood and at this point in their lives he could tell when something was wrong without her having to spell it out to him. She had been fighting with her boyfriend of two years a lot lately, when it wasn't one thing, it was another and she always ended up staying over at his-Ichigo's place the times they couldn't kiss and make up about it. Ichigo had spent time with the guy, enough that he could say the guy had earned his approval, but sometimes Rukia could be far more complicated to deal with than she initially let on.

Rukia Kuchiki had been a lot of firsts in his life. His first friend, his first crush, his first kiss...he could go as far as saying that she had been his first love. When his mother had died, she had been the only one to see him shed tears of sorrow and also the one to teach him that there was no shame but strength in that. She had stayed when he had gone through his awkward rebellious phase years afterwards. He couldn't remember much, just feeling constantly angry enough that he wanted to beat the shit out anyone and anything. It had been Rukia who had helped him understand that the world owed him nothing so he might as well get over it. She had soothed his anger away and he had known then that whatever path his life was to take, he would walk it with her by his side.

It had come as a shock to their circle of friends and family when he had told them that he thought his last girlfriend, Mashiro, was "the one" not because they disapproved of the girl (though he had his suspicions) but because they had always assumed that he and Rukia would end up together since they were practically meant for each other. They fought like a married couple and flirted like first loves. They protected each other like brother and sister, it had always been the kind of relationship they shared.

He touched on the reply button and typed back.

**Ichigo:**

_It's open. Lock the door on your way in._

It was a good twenty minutes before Rukia came strolling through the door, locking it behind her as she had been instructed. She found Ichigo in the same position she always found him in whenever she came over announced: passed out on the couch in front of the TV. She smiled at the sight before making her way to his bedroom. The house's 4 bedroom suites were all themed differently, according to their different designers. They didn't know much of Japanese designer _Tensa __Zangetsu _but Ichigo had once met the guy in a charity event and had told her that he was a badass-looking hipster with mid-length hair and one of those broody attitudes that wore all dark clothes. Quite frankly, she couldn't deny that someone more or less like that had come to mind when she had first seen the bedroom design.

The room had black granite walls and black hardwood floors. The night tables and the dresser were also black wood but the king-sized bed frame was a rich and vibrant red color all the way to the quilted, upholstered headboard with black sheets and a black comforter to contrast. Modern figures stood atop both the dresser and one of the night-tables, the other one crowded with his iPod-dock alarm clock. On the floor was a red plush carpet that matched the color of the bed frame impeccably and right above his bed was a frame in which hung a sleek sword, black all the way to the hilt, with a red background that made perfect contrast.

When Ichigo had first moved in, it had been Rukia who had initially liked this room for him the best because it seemed to match Ichigo's personality and taste perfectly. Ichigo had felt a deep affinity to it the moment he had walked inside the bedroom and saw the black and red color contrast and the sword hung on the frame against the wall right above the bed that only ascertained his feel for it. Coquelicot was his favorite color, a brilliant poppy red hue and it seemed to be the exact type of red that the designer of the room had used for this room. _Tensa Zangetsu_ seemed to understand a piece of Ichigo's soul without never really having intended to.

Rukia made her way to the walk-in closet that was more the size of a standard room in a regular house and was also made out of black granite walls but with plush red carpeting and red wardrobes to match. She looked through all of his designer suits and past his crisp, laundered dress shirts, getting to his designer shirts and jeans collection—all of these gifts from different couturiers for whom Ichigo had been required to work as makeshift model sometimes—and found one of Ichigo's older jersey shirts to sleep in right at the back. Because of her tiny and slim figure, what Ichigo regularly used as shirts could fit Rukia as sleep shirts. She undressed to her underwear and pulled on the jersey shirt, the shirt's sleeves reaching down to her elbows and the rims reaching down to the middle of her thighs. She then made her way to the living room where Ichigo was sprawled out.

Ichigo lay on his side, arms loosely wrapped around one of the couch's decorative pillows and Rukia couldn't remember a time he had looked more like the boy she had met ages ago, back when they were still just children. She ran her fingers through wild spikes of unruly orange hair and felt him slightly shift under the light caress before he gave her a heavy-lidded stare.

"Hey," she whispered and he smiled a little before frowning at her.

"Stop wearing my shirts, stupid," he mumbled sleepily, fixing his position on the couch and making room for her.

"Oh hush little berry," Rukia used her given pet name for him, laying beside him on her stomach and propping the upper half of her body on her elbows. "They look good on me," she bragged.

"They don't," Ichigo yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he rolled onto his back. "You gonna tell me what happened or you wanna go to bed?" he asked without preamble.

Rukia sighed, big amethyst eyes drooping gloomily. "Ashido...broke up with me," she stated, plain and simple.

Ichigo was suddenly wide awake. "Oh," he stared at her probingly and she played with her fingers to avoid his questioning gaze. "You okay?" he asked and she nodded, rolling on her side with her back to him.

"Just...hold me," she muttered and Ichigo stopped, cheeks growing warm with a healthy blush. They had known each other long enough by now to feel comfortable with displays of affection such as these, only it never took long for Ichigo's bashful nature to kick in, even if it was Rukia who was at the receiving end of such affections.

"Please?" Rukia asked in that small and familiar tone that both of them knew would get her just about anything from him.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, the customary scowl on his face tightening as he lowered himself and wrapped an arm around her small waist, pulling her close to his chest. They lay entangled in each other's arms and legs, each other's warmth and comfort, for what felt like hours before Ichigo decided to speak again.

"I broke things off with Mashiro," he said.

In retrospect, it wasn't like his year and a half relationship with Mashiro had been all bad. She'd been supportive of his career and had been good to him despite everything that happened outside of their relationship. Ichigo had just grown tired of fighting with her over things he couldn't change, not unless he quit what he loved to do with a passion to be with her. He figured he would rather be with someone that wanted to be part of his world despite the bad in it than with someone that wanted him to leave his world behind to become a part of theirs.

"Good," Rukia said, turning over in his arms so they could face each other. "She wasn't good for you," she added and Ichigo sighed.

Mashiro and Rukia had never really gotten along but Rukia had never been the type to ask him not to date a girl just because there was something she didn't like about her which was more than he could say about Mashiro, who'd always felt uncomfortable around Rukia because of how close she and Ichigo seemed to be. Rukia let Ichigo call the shots in this department and waited for him to realize on his own that it wasn't right before she said or did anything.

"I thought it could work ya know?" he said with a grimace.

Rukia cupped his face in her small hand and rubbed his cheek with her thumb, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Ichigo had always been the type of guy that would rather be in a relationship, despite his popularity providing for a more licentious way of life. Girls all over the world died to be with him and yet Rukia could never figure out why he picked girls like Mashiro. Maybe she was a bit overprotective where her friend was concerned but Rukia could always tell that they weren't good enough for him. They didn't really _see _him, only saw the soccer player in him and Ichigo deserved better than that. He deserved someone that could understand him when he himself couldn't, someone that could blend into his world and become part of it because they wanted to and not because he needed them to, someone that could devote themselves to him as he devoted himself to them, someone that could make him smile often and keep him where the light was.

"Let's play something," she proposed and Ichigo arched a brow.

"You sure?" he asked. Playing video games was usually what they resorted to whenever one of them was feeling down. It brought forth their extremely competitive streaks and while they resorted to cheap shots in order to win most times, it helped clear their heads when they needed it most.

Rukia gave him a cocky half-grin. "What? You scared?" she teased and Ichigo snorted derisively.

"Please," he said confident.

"Fine then," Rukia said. "You and me. Mario Kart."

Half an hour later, they were through with Delfino Square and Toad Standard Bike S and Mario Bike Mach. Rukia self-proclaimed herself the official victor of the race, despite Ichigo calling her a cheat for covering his eyes with a hand and elbowing him on the ribs once they reached the final lap to earn herself a much needed upper-hand. They had settled on the couch much like they had been before, both of them on their side and Rukia in between his arms with her back pressed against his chest.

"You okay?" she asked, eyes already closed and Ichigo knew she was asking about the whole breakup thing.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, breathing in and taking in her scent. "You?"

"I..." she yawned. "I will be."

If Ichigo were honest with himself, maybe he had reached a point in his life where keeping Rukia in his life was more important than any romantic feelings he might have for her. It was the reason he was leaving things unsaid. Things like maybe he consciously picked all of the relationships that he had been in wrong and deliberately made no effort for them not to end once he realized they were going nowhere. Because the truth of the matter was there would forever be one thing that Ichigo would not be able change, even if he wanted to: he was and always would be head over heels in love with Rukia.

The way he saw it, though, if things went south while in a relationship with Rukia, he wouldn't just be losing another girlfriend but probably the person that he valued the most in his life. _So long as she's happy, __I'll be fine _he thought, because isn't that what you want when you genuinely love someone? For them to be happy even if it wasn't you who was making them happy? But there was a part of him that knew he really didn't mean that. It was the same part of him that would always have a boyish crush on her, that got jealous when she went out with no-good men, that would always want to go to great lengths to make her smile and that would always need her when his world was dark.

He was fooling nobody but himself, he knew that...

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**End of Chapter 1. **Okay, so that's chapter one for you. My intros are always shorter for some reason but the chapters are going to be more or less this length. Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!

Dom.


	2. Opportunities

**A/n: **Okay so there's good news and there's bad news and I will start with the bad because the good will (hopefully) make you forget the bad (hopefully). Bad news is, this is a short chapter. Good news is, next chapter will be longer. That said, I would like to take a moment to thank those of you who took the time to leave feedback. You guys were great! I will personally get back to you anyway because I always do but I just had to say it! Thank you so much!

**Warning(s): **except a little swearing, none.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.**

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**On Top of the World**

"_Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss."_

-The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Ichigo jerked awake, the word "peppermint" escaping his lips as the last vestiges of the weird dream he had been having slowly faded into nothingness, the heaviness of sleep gradually lifting from him as he became more alert and better aware of his surroundings. He noticed with some confusion that he was alone on the couch, the shirt Rukia had borrowed had been left neatly folded on the coffee table before him and there was a lingering scent in the air, a blend of spicy tea and crispy bacon, that quickly overpowered his senses. He stretched languidly until the bones of his back gave a pleasant and satisfying pop before he stood and made his way over to the kitchen.

There was a tray on one of the countertops in which a cup of steaming green tea had been arranged along with some toast, a side of yoghurt with raisins and a plate with bacon and eggs. Next to it was a folded note, bunny faces drawn on the outside (the artistry abysmal at best). Ichigo widened and narrowed his eyes several times, trying his best to clear the drowsiness from them so he could read.

"_**Off to work. Thank you (abysmal smiling bunny face). Have a good practice today.**_

_**- Rukia**_

_**P.s., Buy healthier food, idiot. (abysmal angry bunny face) **_

He rolled his eyes and pocketed the note in one of the pockets of his sweatpants before he took a seat on one of the stools of the kitchen bar that the house had come with, ready to dig in. The TV mounted on the wall right next to the fridge had been left on with the morning news and he was able to catch the last of the sports broadcast before they moved on to a different segment.

"_In entertainment news: it's over! Girls all over Japan will be delighted to know that Ichigo Kurosaki is officially back on the market. The famous soccer sensation has called it quits with his year and a half girlfriend Mashiro Kuna. Sources claim the reason behind the sudden unexpected end to their heated romance remains unknown. Kurosaki could not be reached for comment—"_

Ichigo walked over to the device and turned it off, eyes hooded and lips set into a straight line. There had been a moment in his career where having his personal life invaded upon like this had made him angry to the point where he would become withdrawn from the world and he would drown in his own sulkiness, never allowing those that cared about him to reach him. Rukia had changed that. She never failed to knock some sense into him (sometimes literally) when he needed it most and was always able to bring him back to his comfort zone where he was able to relax and start over with a clean slate whenever he was at the end of his rope.

"_Fame is a fickle thing," _she had said to him once. _"It'll pass."_

He sighed, knowing that she was right. One day they would grow tired of him. For him, that day could not come soon enough.

**-O-o-O-**

Rukia boarded her limited edition white Range Rover (a gift from her brother for graduating law school at the top of her class) and exited Ichigo's house, intent on stopping by her penthouse apartment (also a gift from her brother for graduating law school at the top of her class) to shower and get dressed before she went to work. For some reason she couldn't dispose of the feeling that something was...off. Having never been one for superstition or unfounded suspicions, she brushed it off and continued about her day as she normally did.

From a few cars behind her, pictures of her were snapped from all possible angles. They tried to zero in on her face but were unable to take a good clear shot because of the discretion that had to be taken in order to take the pictures without the target finding out.

"Is that good enough?" the driver asked.

"Yeah, that's good," the photographer said, scrolling through the pictures. "We'll get her face later. Now we just need her name..."

**-O-o-O-**

Pre-season.

If there was a phase of training that all athletes universally despised it was pre-season. It was grueling, bodies were constantly being pushed to their limit and exhaustion allowed them to do nothing more than shower and go to bed after the day was done since they had to wake up early the next day to do everything all over again. The Goteijūsantai F.C had won the title 8 years in a row and they attributed their success to the rigorous work put into this particular part of the season. Renowned for signing only the best talent in the nation, they believed that it was in pre-season that teams won championships and they grilled their players during the time period to get them in the shape that would allow them to play at the peak of their performance. No less was expected from the wealthiest club in the league. It was something they took pride on.

Ichigo led the team on a fine friday morning as they warmed up, all players equally dressed in their Adidas practice attire which consisted of a black muscle shirt combined with black pants and dark knee-length socks with dark cleats. For approximately 40 minutes, they worked their resistance on the vast expanse of the dewy, dark green turf of their stadium. The trainer would blow the whistle and they would sprint for close to a minute across the field before the trainer blew the whistle again and they returned to their regular jogging pace. When resistance work was done, they had 10 minutes to stretch before they moved on to strength.

In the strength phase of training, all players worked on push-ups, sit-ups, torso rotation, back flexors, lunges, squats and calf-raises before they moved on to work with resistance bands, followed by medicine ball workout. It went on for close to an hour before they moved on to speed training. Medium-length orange cones were spread sporadically around the field for speed training and they had to sprint and change directions throughout the field under an appointed time and do several reps of the same drill to be done. After getting through the three phases, they went on to get practice started.

During pre-season practices, players were to get the feel for the ball and the proportion of the field until they became one with both. They worked on their footwork and their stamina, sharpening their techniques for the coming season. Ichigo displayed his fast striker skills early on. He defeated his opposition by crossing the ball and dribbling off and he was very adept at using both his feet and head to score. He also was a skillful winger, he could defend other players with his pace and dribbling and he had a good power hit, especially for free kicks. The players were always blown away by his skills, for being so young, he displayed a knowledge for the game never seen before. It was no wonder he was the best soccer player in all of Asia!

After practice was done, they hit the showers and Ichigo was blessedly grateful for the warmth that seemed to seep through every pore of his skin. He was sore, there were parts of his body he didn't even know could hurt that hurt and those were entirely separate from the muscles of his body that inexplicably cramped completely out of nowhere, making him let out an undignified yelp of pain and stop wherever he was to stretch them until the muscle gave.

"Ne, Ichigo," someone called from the shower stall next to his and Ichigo turned just in time to come up to a fairly brawny man with crimson red hair tied up in a braid so it wouldn't get wet, edged jagged tattoos marring his bare tan skin. "We're going out tomorrow. You comin'?"

"Gross Renji," someone interrupted from the shower stall at the other side of Ichigo's. "Can't you wait 'til you're both dressed? It's disrespectful," he said and Renji clicked his tongue.

"Fuck off, Yumi," he said and continued to wash himself off. Yumi shook his head and rolled his eyes, going back to his shower.

"You know him, Ichi. He's never been one for manners," he said.

"Like you're one to talk, you ass," said a bald-headed man next to Yumi's shower stall. "So ya comin' Ichi?"

Ichigo washed himself free of soap to try and buy himself more time to think about it. Aside from being close friends, Renji, Yumichika and Ikkaku were also members of his team. Renji was the best midfielder the league had, having been inducted to the J-League's Best XI team just last year. Yumichika had been the league's Breakthrough Player of the Year as a left wing and Ikkaku was their goalie, though he hadn't earned awards, he was still among the best in the league. Ikkaku also owned a nightclub called _Madarame_, named respectively after his last name and it had become a hotspot for celebrities, professional athletes and famous socialites alike.

"Sure," Ichigo said. He was exhausted but he also felt like he needed to loosen up and tomorrow would be the first day off that they would have since pre-season had started. He had a lot on his plate at the moment with practices and training and tending to his sponsors, his breakup...and Rukia. He just wanted a night to not think about anything.

When they were done, they said their goodbyes and Ichigo hopped in his black Maserati GranTurismo S and drove off. The only biological needs that he instinctively conformed to during preseason were getting enough sleep or getting enough food in his stomach since all he ever felt was either tired or hungry. When he slept, his sleep was so deep he woke up wondering what the hell year it was. When he ate, he could eat entire menus from restaurants down without ever feeling entirely full which surely wouldn't be strange when he was with the rest of his teammates who could also do the same but was definitely impressive when he was with people that had never burned calories for a living before.

Inoue Orihime sat before him, dumbstruck as he hovered over the plates that she had set on the table and devoured the food on each of them without minding what he mixed with what.

"What?" he stopped with a spoonful of steamed white rice mixed with beef curry, udon noodles and a piece of egg roll on the side halfway to his mouth, cheeks puffed up with food.

"Ah, it's nothing!" Inoue smiled courteously and he shrugged a shoulder.

"It's all going to the same place," he mumbled in a garble, swallowing and digging in again with gusto.

Soon he was done, for now anyway, and the waiters of the place cleared the table before they brought tea as he settled in to talk with his friend. Inoue was the owner of the restaurant. They had grown up together in the same neighborhood back in Karakura and ever since he had known her, she had been a fan of the kitchen. Her restaurant had gained its popularity because of the bold recipes she put together which didn't always sound right on the menu but tasted surprisingly good once you tried them. It wasn't always so, all through middle school she came up with the weirdest combinations that had nasty outcomes; it was needless to say it took a lot of trial and error before she was able to get the whole cooking business straight. Because Ichigo had been one of the people that had never stopped believing in her, she felt forever grateful to him, enough to invite him over for meals every now and then on the house.

They caught up on everything that they needed to catch up on. Inoue told him about his old high school friends, how Ishida had asked her to marry him and she had said yes and how Chad was still working at his father's old garage and had met a girl but was so far only talking with her though he soon would ask her out on a date. Keigo and Mizuiro's women's lingerie joint business was going well and Tatsuki had become a renowned personal trainer, her services requested by famous Japanese celebrities and the likes.

"I hope she marries an A-lister!" Orihime gushed, eyes shining bright at the thought.

Ichigo smiled but it was a sad smile, burdened with regrets for the things he couldn't change. His friends were so happy and free. To think that he had almost destroyed that hurt. What made it worse was they didn't blame him, on the contrary, they called and left voicemails often and texted him on a regular basis. It was him who stayed away, not because he didn't care about them but because he didn't want to take from them the privilege of moving about with their lives without the disturbances that being close to him would bring. He had liked it when he was still a nobody, still remembered somewhat what it was like and would give anything for that aspect of his life to go back to being what it used to be. He couldn't take their freedom away from them. It was a price he had to pay, one his friends would not understand even if he tried to explain it himself.

"How is Rukia?" Inoue asked and his mind went blank, the question catching him off-guard.

"She's okay," he said at last but the hesitation didn't go by unnoticed.

Everyone in their small circle of friends knew about the saga between him and Rukia and they had always pushed him to pursue her as something more than just a friend. They knew Ichigo had feelings for her that went beyond just a close friend and if there was one thing they all wanted after years of seeing them interact with each other, it was for their love story to finally come to a close with the happy ending it deserved. Life had gotten in the way so many times for them, however, the timing just never seemed right.

"She told me she and Ashido broke up," Inoue said. "And didn't you say you broke up with that girl recently?" she added offhandedly, her tone suggestive and Ichigo knew what she was implying without her having to say anything.

"I don't," he started, letting out a breath as he looked for words to try and explain why he couldn't strive for a relationship with Rukia, even though he maybe sort of wanted to. "I can't," his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Rukia's my best friend," he explained and Inoue detected the _I don't want to lose her too_ in between the lines left unsaid.

"Your intentions with her are honorable," Inoue said wisely. "What makes you think you will lose her?"

**-O-o-O-**

Whenever Ichigo visited Karakura, stopping by his family's house was a long-established arrangement. Even when he didn't doubt that his father was doing a good job taking care of his twin sisters on his own, he liked to personally check up on things and make sure everyone was doing okay. He didn't get to see them much since he had gone pro, a sacrifice he had been forced to make to keep them off the radars from paparazzi and gossipers working for the media. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something were to happen to them and he wasn't around to stop it.

His father ran out the front door and tried to goad him into a bear hug that he just barely managed to dodge, rough and brutal as he knew those were. Yuzu received him with a bright smile though it quickly faded into a crestfallen look when she noticed that he had come alone.

"Where's Rukia?" she asked. A snort was heard before the door was pulled open wider, his other sister coming into view.

"Geez Yuzu, can't you be a little more sensitive?" Karin gave Ichigo an evil half-grin. "He just broke up with...what's her face?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, expecting the banter. Although Mashiro had been liked in his household, it wasn't with the same level of affection that his family had always felt for Rukia. Rukia was worshipped, kind of like his mother, except that she was his best friend and though the fact had been well established by him for ages, it hadn't ever made his family abandon the idea that they made the perfect couple and that they should get married and have babies as soon as humanly possible. They saw Rukia as the light of his world (which wasn't far from the truth) and it kept them from properly opening up to anybody that wasn't her. They weren't rude to the girls he dated but Ichigo could tell that there was something that kept them from warming up to them the way they had warmed up to Rukia, as if they expected him to break up with them somewhere along the way (which he had done, numerously) so why bother?

They sat in the living room and got caught up with the recent events going on in their respective lives. His father talked about the clinic and how it was still going strong. Karin had made the school's girls soccer team though her position was still undefined since she had good enough reflexes to be a goalie but she also had a strong left kick. Yuzu was dating a boy a year older than her to which Ichigo wanted to flip his shit but then Karin had gone on to relate how their father had received him the first time they had met.

"He asked him if he smoked or drank," Karin explained rolling her eyes.

"And?" Ichigo asked, genuinely concerned.

"Of course he doesn't!" Yuzu answered outraged. "Jinta isn't like that," she added defensively.

"Then he put on his "serious dad face" and told him he had a .45 and a shovel," Karin finished, fingers forming quotation marks in the air and there was a collective mental face-palm around the table.

Ichigo told them about practices and the up and coming season before he tapped into his break-up with Mashiro. He told them about how the decision had been mutual since all they did anymore was fight. They felt sorry for him, even when they hadn't really opened up to her, he knew they worried about his happiness and wanted to see him settled down with someone that would be good for him. They asked about Rukia and he told them how well her job was going, choosing to leave the fact that she had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had shacked up with him last night out of the conversation because he knew they would make a big deal out of it when it really wasn't.

"She's a good girl, Rukia. Reminds me of Masaki," his father said with a hint of pride in his tone.

"She's cute and she takes good care of our brother," Yuzu said in her nurturing ways, grinning wide.

"I'm just glad someone does," Karin added her two cents.

Ichigo glared. They liked to do this thing where they would point out all of Rukia's attributes out loud while they pretended he wasn't there, as if to convince him that she was perfect for him—like he didn't know that. The truth of the matter, however, remained that it was a complicated issue. Their worlds were realms apart and even if he could come up with thousands of reasons why it could work between them, he couldn't do it without thinking of a thousand reasons more why it wouldn't. Rukia made his days brighter, there was no denying that, but she also often was the basis of the war of emotions raging inside of him.

He was still yet to know how to handle that.

**-O-o-O-**

When he arrived at his house, there were several things that immediately put him on high alert. The front door had been left open (he was sure he had closed and locked it), the light in the living room closest to his room was on and so was the light in his bedroom, both of which he was positive had been pointedly left turned off. A robber would've been more inconspicuous and the security guard was highly efficient at keeping trespassers away, it was one of the main reasons that he had decided to move here. Which meant whoever had come over unannounced had to be someone he knew.

When he entered the house everything was still but there was indistinct clatter coming from his bedroom. He made his way over and came up to the small figure of Rukia trying to fit two huge suitcases in his walk-in closet, her back to him, completely unaware of is presence. He frowned.

"Oi," the low tone made her jump. She stood perfectly still, as if remaining unmoving would somehow make him un-see her. "You left the door open, dumbass."

Rukia smiled nervously. "I did?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. She remained with her back turned to him and Ichigo walked up to her until they stood side by side, both of them now staring at the suitcases.

"What's with the suitcases?" he asked, locking eyes with her. Immediately he knew that there was something she wanted/needed from him and that whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.

Rukia sighed before she dropped the bomb. "I need a place to stay."

* * *

**End of Chapter 2. **Okay, so this is the second part of the intro pretty much. It's short but it was either a really long chapter left with a bad cliffhanger or a shorter chapter now and a longer one next. Anyway, I thank you for the response again, I'm glad you guys like it. Like I said in my note, I will get back to you personally, because I always do, I just ask that you be patient! Also, the feedback really helped a lot to carve out this chapter so go crazy with it, ask questions, tell me what you loved and what you didn't love, it's fine. I promise!

I hope you're all well!

Dom.


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